The C Word
by happymama
Summary: Settled into a life of perfection with the man of her dreams and a brand new baby, Bella is diagnosed with cancer. Rated M for swearing and potential moments of intimacy. Very short story.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at a short story in fanfic land. I expect this story will run less than 10 chapters. I hope you enjoy.**

**No copyright infringement is intended. All copyrights belonging to Stephenie Meyer are hers, and the remaining original ideas/content are mine. Thank you.**

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Bella was finally pregnant with their baby. His baby.

They'd tried for a few years; the first, not really serious, the more recent involving charting temps and testing things she never realized her body even did.

Finally, on a cool spring Saturday, the second line appeared. They commemorated in bed, sweaty and naked, panting and loud. Rejoicing. Celebrating the life they'd created together, finally.

Nine months later, a beautiful baby was born; Renesmee. She had hair just like her father, an indescribable earthy tone, and her mother's full, pouty lips. She was beautiful and so, so loved.

"Can you believe we did this, Edward?" Bella asked, her eyes focused on the infant.

"She's gorgeous."

The tiny baby's fingers curled around her father's finger as she nestled herself against Bella's breast and fed greedily. Bella and Edward sat together in the hospital bed, a small kiss shared between them as Ren continued to coo and eat happily.

Four months later, during a rather intimate moment, Edward felt something odd.

"Stop," he whispered. "Stop for a minute."

His tone scared her, and Bella immediately ceased moving at all. She wasn't even sure she wanted to move to breathe.

"What's wrong?"

Her voice was nervous and scared, and there was a tinge of hurt behind it. Had she somehow hurt or disgusted him, she wondered.

Continuing their path, his fingers worked in a circle around her breast. The closer they got to her nipple, the harder it was for Bella to hold in the moan; his touches were so light, so tender and loving on her skin.

Noticing his furrowed brows framing a look of concentration, she repeated herself. "What's wrong, Edward?"

"There's a..." He searched for the words. He was a doctor, after all, he should be able to tell her this easily. "There's a small lump."

"What?" Instinctively, Bella pulled back and began to touch her own breast. "Where?"

Trying to remain calm, Edward placed his hand over hers. Slowly, he guided their fingers to where he'd felt it.

When she looked up from her skin to his face, her eyes were filled with tears. They began to spill over and he pulled her close to him.

"It's okay, baby. It's probably a clogged duct. Don't worry."

He tried to soothe her, but as he spoke, he realized he was trying to soothe himself, as well. It might not be okay, he knew that. But he prayed. For almost the first time in his life, Edward Cullen prayed.

Bella saw her OBGYN the following week. There were tests, needle biopsies, and finally a diagnosis.

They held hands together in the medical building Edward was familiar with, since it was attached to the hospital he worked at. He knew and respected Bella's doctor. More, he trusted her.

"It's cancer."

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**Love/hate it so far? Drop me a review, pretty please?**


	2. Chapter 2

**This is my first attempt at a short story in fanfic land; I hope you enjoy. Yes, this is a heavy topic. The bulk of the story is written, and I anticipate posting one chapter per day, until the end. Depending on readership, I may ask for opinions at some point on one tiny detail that will impact the ending.**

**No copyright infringement is intended. All copyrights belonging to Stephenie Meyer are hers, and the remaining original ideas/content are mine. Thank you.**

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Edward squeezed his wife's hand on instinct, wanting to pull her into his body. It was unimaginable, unthinkable, but right there smacking them in the face. He was glad the doctor hadn't dragged it out, instead getting straight to the diagnosis.

Bella withdrew her hand from Edward's and covered her face. She'd wanted to be strong, wanted to put on a brave face for him, for their baby, for their family.

She failed.

Edward stood from his chair, got onto his knees, and embraced her as much as he could from that position. He pulled her closer, as close as he could, and held her as tightly as he could without harming her.

Thankfully, the doctor let them grieve together, quietly, for as long as they needed.

When they'd finished holding each other, crying, and making silent and spoken promises, they turned back to the doctor to discuss their options.

The weeks and months that followed involved genetic testing, multiple surgeries, chemotherapy, radiation, long, pink, ugly scars, vomiting, and more. If Bella had thought labor was exhausting, it had nothing on cancer.

The beautiful, flowing chestnut locks Edward had so loved thinned, falling out in clumps in Bella's hands. Her eyebrows disappeared, eyelashes fell off, and when she thought she could bear no more, her pubic hair disappeared.

_At least I don't have to pay for a wax_, she thought and laughed lightly, a move that turned out to be more painful than she expected.

When Edward came home from work that night and found her sobbing quietly in bed, he emailed his boss at the hospital to request a leave. He'd been trying to manage helping Bella during his off time, as she had insisted several times, but he was done. These could be his last weeks with his wife, he'd be damned if he let her tell him to go away from her all day.

After he'd done that, he went to the bathroom and shaved his own head. He'd never been more worried in his life, but for some reason this gave him comfort, this act of solidarity.

Bella's body was frail and fragile in the following weeks, and Edward had gone as far as to call in his own parents to help. They were managing with Ren, but just barely.

He was so in love with her, both of them – his daughter and wife – and the thought of losing either one of them, especially when he'd only begun to feel like his family was complete, often reduced him to tears. Or sent him into an angry rage. He let these things out in private, and would never know that Bella had overheard him once in the bathroom, alternating between sobbing and bargaining.

"Please, God," he whispered. "Take me. I don't know if I can do this for much longer. I can't stand by and watch her suffer like this."

Crying softly, he put his face in his hands and let go.

Bella turned and walked back to the bed, curling up and allowing the guilt to consume her only briefly.

When she heard him finishing up in the bathroom, she took a deep breath and recomposed herself. He needed her, for just this day maybe, to be stronger than he was, though he'd never admit it.

Edward saw her in bed, not in the living room where he expected her, and he was worried.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, rushing to her side.

She turned to face him. "Yeah. I just wanted to lay down for a minute. Lay with me, please?"

Knowing what she looked like – hell, she saw herself in the mirror every day – she felt self-conscious constantly. What man would find a bald, sallow, skin-and-bones woman attractive? She prayed in this moment that he wouldn't reject her.

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**I would really love to know what you think. Review, please?**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm still posting one chapter per day, until this story is completed. As of right now, there are 7 chapters planned, with 6 of them written and complete. **

**No copyright infringement is intended. All copyrights belonging to Stephenie Meyer are hers, and the remaining original ideas/content are mine. Thank you.**

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Edward heard his wife asking him to lay with her, and he worried. He worried that he would hurt her, physically, when he laid next to her. He worried that he would hurt her emotionally if he hesitated, but there was no avoiding that. Her body, though still beautiful to him, was not strong. Knowing all of the risks if she was injured somehow, made him even more careful.

Walking around to his side of the bed, Edward drew the covers back, shed his clothes, and climbed in next to his wife. It had been months since they'd been in bed together in any sort of a romantic way, and although they were both knew very clearly that this was not romantic, it was intimate. Bella stood and removed her own clothes, then slipped into the bed next to him.

Their heads laid on the pillows, eyes connected and saying what they were still too afraid to say out loud.

"I love you so much," he finally said.

Running his hands over the almost smooth skin of her scalp, he knew he was taking a risk. Bella might react poorly, hate that he was touching her where she no longer had her beautiful hair, but instead, she relished the feeling. Where she held shame and sadness, there was now heat and touch, skin against skin. He wasn't repulsed by her, as she was so deeply convinced, she realized.

Tears leaked from her eyes, beyond her control, and she repeated his words back to him.

"I love you," she gasped, heaving sobs wracking her body. "Couldn't have done this without you. Oh, God."

The thought of going through this alone, or with anyone but Edward, was simply incomprehensible to Bella. Though her initial goal had been to reassure him, to remind him that she was strong too, there she was sobbing.

"I miss you," she finally eked out. "I miss you so fucking much. Please touch me."

Whisper isn't even a low enough word for the volume of her plea, so soft and fearful were the words.

"Bella," he breathed. "Oh, my Bella."

Shifting his body closer, he pulled her into his embrace, but carefully. Everything was so careful these, so calculated. Gone was the spur-of-the-moment passion, decisions made on the fly, whimsical planning.

When she was close enough, he explained. "I want nothing more than to touch you, sweetheart. I want to touch you, love you, remind you of how sexy you are, I promise." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "You're just not strong enough yet. I promise you, when we've kicked cancer's ass, I'm going to give you the best weekend of your life. You'll be begging me to stop."

They laughed together, for the first time in months, it felt like. It had been so long, too long.

"I'm going to hold you to that," she mumbled against his chest.

They laid like that until the sun had begun to set, and Esme had knocked softly on their bedroom room, Renesmee needing their attention. It was the first time Bella felt truly hopeful, truly on the "other side" of her diagnosis.

She was going to kick cancer's ass, and she was going to be that person again. She was going to love her husband, be the mom she'd always wanted to be, and simply _be_, something she realized she'd taken for granted all her life.

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**Review, please?**


	4. Chapter 4

**No copyright infringement is intended. All copyrights belonging to Stephenie Meyer are hers, and the remaining original ideas/content are mine. Thank you.**

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Renesmee continued to grow, and life went on around them. Even Bella's peach fuzz was growing out, as they discussed and weighed the options ahead of them for her remaining treatment. She wore elaborate, beautiful scarves over her head, and felt utterly self-conscious. When she grocery shopped with Esme, she usually spent her shower time that night crying, allowing herself these brief moments of self-pity.

The time from the end of her treatment to the hopeful "all clear" appointment with the oncologist was fraught with arguing, stress, and tension. They each worried, together and alone, that her cancer wouldn't be gone. What would they do?

Carlisle had gone back home weeks ago, Esme staying longer since she was retired and able. Bella found her presence comforting, her own mother long gone. She loved Esme and looked up to her as a second mother, and perhaps in some ways, was even closer to Esme than she had been with her mom. There were things you never wanted your mom to know, but Bella felt comfortable discussing every topic with Esme.

Medical bills needed to be dealt with, and even with Edward's knowledge and familiarity of the medical system, Esme still struggled to help them. It wasn't a matter of funds, it was figuring out what needed to be paid, and when insurance would cover it, or how much. The process often left Bella in tears. Many things left Bella in tears, though, these days.

Esme left before the follow-up visit, and Edward wondered if it had been the wrong choice. They were each getting used to being back in the swing of things alone and now they had this cloud lingering over them. Ren was beginning to crawl and her mobility thrilled and frightened Bella. There was just so much more to do these days, for her.

Edward hadn't gone back to work, but felt the pressure looming. He'd never go back, if Bella's cancer wasn't gone, but that diagnosis would destroy everything. Not sure what he'd do, he knew if he lost Bella, he could never live in their house, not even their city. In his head, he formed a plan to move back in with his parents, even though he knew this was a total pussy move. Uncertain he could mentally handle it, losing her, he knew he had to plan for the worst.

Late night calls to Carlisle left him a sleep-deprived insomniac. He was grateful that he had a father available to listen, but hoped he'd never have to take him up on his offer to move in and get help. More than once, he sat at his desk and cried. He cried for her, and he cried for himself. For their lost time, for their lost perfect lives.

Deciding to keep a positive attitude, Bella began to look into reconstruction options, for once her treatment was over and she was in the clear. Unknown to Edward, she made an appointment with a plastic surgeon. She came home with a silicon and a saline bag. She played with them, touched them, put them in her bra, tried to imagine them as hers.

Could she do it? she wondered. Could she insert something foreign into her body to recreate what disease had destroyed and taken?

She wasn't sure. So many of her feelings surrounding the surgery were a muddled mess in her own head. Could she be okay not having the surgery? Would she still be a woman without one of her breasts? She knew there were bras and other devices to "fake it", but would that be enough for her? Was she overly vain if she got the implant? Would he still love her and find her attractive without it? She thought back to how much he'd loved her breasts, how the discovery of the lump had even come while they were being intimate.

Making the right decision seemed so taxing, so exhausting.

She hadn't exactly snuck the appointment with the plastic surgeon, but she knew he'd be upset she hadn't asked him to go with her. As delicately as she could, once Renesmee was in bed for the night, she brought the topic up.

"So," she started. "I've been thinking about the next surgery."

Edward turned on the couch and looked at her, confused.

"Plastic surgery, Edward. Breasts."

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**This story has been such a pleasure to write, I hope you're enjoying their journey together, too. There are going to be 7 chapters total, I believe.**


	5. Chapter 5

**No copyright infringement is intended. All copyrights belonging to Stephenie Meyer are hers, and the remaining original ideas/content are mine. Thank you.**

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"Oh," he said.

It wasn't the response she'd hoped for, but then, he was taken completely off-guard.

"Do you have an opinion?" she asked quietly.

Blinking a few times, he tried to think carefully and evaluate her question fairly. He didn't want to give her the kneejerk reaction answer, which was that he didn't want her to have additional, unnecessary surgery. He wanted to be truthful, but he was afraid. What if he did want her to have reconstructive surgery, and then something went wrong? Could he live with himself, knowing that his wife had died for a nice looking breast?

He knew she'd delayed thinking about this so that she could deal with her treatment. Some women opted to get reconstructive surgery immediately, but Bella simply wanted to fight one battle at a time. He'd agreed with her thoughts on that.

"I...I'm not sure," he said, honestly. "I want you to be happy. What do you think?"

"I miss my breasts the way they were. I miss feeling normal. I don't know if this will help? Will they feel foreign? Will I be angry when I look at them? Maybe I'll love them..."

Bella got up from the couch and retrieved the sacs of liquid. Together, they touched them, weighing the different sizes and filling materials.

Over the next few days, Bella began to feel like her old self. It was a slow change, seeping back into her bones. It made her dizzy with hope.

At the follow-up appointment, where she was declared cancer-free, Bella sobbed freely. Edward held her close, not afraid of hurting her anymore. Though he only shed a few tears, his relief was just as great. They both knew they would have to keep a very close eye on things, but they were in a new stage, no longer fighting cancer, but surviving.

"I'm ready," she said the following week. "I'm going to make an appointment to get myself fixed up, and then as soon as I'm recovered, you're taking me away."

The twinkle in her eyes had returned, and he felt their spark. It had never left, he realized, it just simmered in the background as they focused on more important things.

"Gladly," he said.

Just the thought of taking her away for a weekend made him require alone time that night. He'd missed her, missed her beautiful smile, missed her beautiful body, and mostly, missed their connection.

True to her word, Bella made the next available appointment for her reconstructive surgery. Esme returned to their home, ready and willing to step in and help them in any way she could again.

Edward and Bella were surprised at the length of recovery time, and the number of surgeries required for reconstruction. There would be an implant, and then several weeks later, nipple reconstruction.

After the first surgery, Edward felt relief. He still felt they were unnecessary steps, but if they helped Bella to feel like her old self, to feel better, he was all for them. After the surgeon told him in the waiting room she was fine, he turned and let his mother hold him as he cried. Maybe now, finally, he'd get his wife and best friend back.

When she'd been discharged and released several days later, Edward brought her home to finish recovering.

Bella felt even more herself, which struck her as odd since she had something so foreign inside her now. She spent time touching her new breast, poking it – but not too hard – and looking at it. She felt the weight of it, compared it to her other breast, and she worried. She worried Edward would notice every difference, every flaw.

Just before her second surgery, she caught him staring at her across the dinner table. When she felt his foot next to hers, then on top of hers, she smiled and felt the tears well in her eyes. Had Esme not been there, they'd have surely found something for Renesmee to do in order to steal a few minutes alone.

This small sign had been what she needed to push her self-confidence back in full force.

She still struggled, still had days she hated her body, wanted her old, saggy boobs back (as insane as that idea was), and felt the eyes on her as people noticed her strange hairstyle.

But slowly, Bella Cullen, wife, mother, and lover, was returning.

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**This story has barely any reviews, but is getting decent reads. I hope it's not that you're not enjoying, and I'd love to hear from you, either way.**


	6. Chapter 6

**No copyright infringement is intended. All copyrights belonging to Stephenie Meyer are hers, and the remaining original ideas/content are mine. Thank you.**

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Edward had made every last arrangement and covered each detail. They weren't going away for a weekend, though – they were going away for two weeks. Bella had no clue, of course, because where would be the fun in that?

Afraid his extended trip plans would upset her, he consulted his mother.

"Honey, stop worrying," she advised. "Save that energy for other things." Patting his hand, she wandered away, giggling.

It was the perfect answer.

"I don't understand why I have to pack for a week if we're going for a weekend," Bella protested.

"Bella, you never know when you need a different outfit. Now, go get that lingerie we bought," implored her new friend Alice. They'd met at a department store when Alice had been so bold as to steer Bella away from a particular hat she'd been looking at, declaring it a "fashion don't".

Alice, having known of Edward's plan to take Bella away for much longer, snuck several more appropriate pieces of clothing into Bella's suitcase. And a few inappropriate (in all the right ways) pieces.

Having a friend she'd made post-cancer was a relief for Bella. Alice knew nothing of Bella before, and that was somehow reassuring to Bella. In preparation for her trip, the women had spent an entire day at a nearby spa, taking Esme with them for some much-needed girl time and stress relief.

Bella actually felt giddy and deliciously naughty when she had to pay for a wax. Opting for more than just her bikini area, since it was an extended vacation to a warm, tropical place, requiring lots of skimpy clothes, she smiled to herself.

Well, and she was planning to spend a lot of time naked, if she was being honest with herself.

"I can't believe you get to go away with that hunky husband of yours," Alice teased.

"I know." Bella blushed as she spoke. "I'm very … eager."

The women laughed, but it was Esme that said the most wise thing to Bella.

"You're still that girl with a skinned knee he fell in love with, Bella. You just have some cosmetic differences. You love him the same, and he loves you the same, too. Maybe a little more," she amended.

Remembering their childhood made Bella smile, and her heart beat faster at the thought of being alone with him. It was scary and exciting, it had been so long since they'd been together. She felt like a virgin again, in some ways.

A beautiful black Lincoln Town Car arrived to take them to the airport, and Bella hugged Alice, Esme, and then finally, her daughter.

"Be good for Grammie, okay baby?"

Renesmee was just a few months shy of her second birthday, and she loved her grandma dearly. Nodding at her mom, she waved from Esme's hip, the waves turning into blown kisses.

Edward held the car door for Bella, and once they were both buckled in, the driver took them the short distance to the airport. His excitement radiated from him, and Bella was nervous because of it. She couldn't quite read his emotions, and feared he was regretful of his decision to spend the time away with her.

Their flight was borderline boring, an unfamiliar experience for them over the last few years. It was a welcome change. When Edward checked in at the rental car booth, he asked Bella to stand by their luggage so that she wouldn't hear how long they'd have it for. He knew he couldn't avoid telling her about their altered plans forever, he was just waiting for the right moment.

The right moment almost never exists, though, and when he was checking in at the hotel, she refused to leave his side. Edward decided that was just fine with him, also sick of being deprived of his wife, his mate, his partner, for so long. Bella's arm was wrapped around his, and she enjoyed the strength she still felt there. Resisting the urge to kiss him at every moment, she tried to stay present and alert, instead of drifting into her dirty thoughts.

When she heard the dates of their stay confirmed out loud, she simply thought the clerk had made a mistake. Edward nodded, however, and then accepted the room keys. Bella was elated. His apprehension immediately made sense; it had never been about not wanting her.

Suddenly, they couldn't get to their room fast enough.

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**This is where I debated: should I end the story here, or should I add in a sweet and tasteful lemon for their send-off? I'd love your thoughts.**


	7. Chapter 7

**No copyright infringement is intended. All copyrights belonging to Stephenie Meyer are hers, and the remaining original ideas/content are mine. Thank you.**

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Bella couldn't contain her enthusiasm at the thought of two weeks in such a beautiful, lush, _alive_ location with her husband. She'd miss her daughter dearly, she decided, but that's what Skype is for, right?

The moment the hotel room door clicked closed, a "Do Not Disturb" sign safely hanging on the outside, she gave her husband a predatory smile. Which he returned.

When she practically leapt across the room at him, he laughed and held her in his arms. This moment had been building between them for months. They'd each looked forward to alone time, but it was more than that.

In the days after her treatment, it wasn't as if Bella and Edward hadn't been intimate; after the time she walked in on him pleasuring himself, then promptly stepped in to help, they'd each given a helping hand from time-to-time. It was unspoken, however, that they wanted to regain this special connection with each other during a moment of privacy and grown-up away time.

Esme would have been glad to take Renesmee to the park or a movie, or even dinner and a movie, but they each intrinsically knew they needed more time. More space. More privacy. More.

"I've missed you so much," he whispered into her hair. "Not just this, but you. I can see that light in your eyes again, and _fuck_, I love you so much."

Edward didn't swear often, and Bella was caught off-guard by his words. And perhaps more than a little turned on.

When she bent and put her hands on the hem of her dress, he placed his own over them. "Please, let me?"

Nodding, she smiled and waited for her turn to undress him. It was one of the things she loved most; slowly revealing his body, inch by delectable inch. She had it all memorized, even when she hadn't seen the whole glorious package together in, she suddenly realized, years.

Once her dress was gone, she guessed he must've felt the same way, because he stood back from her. She hadn't chosen her most sexy bra and underwear set, but it wasn't ratty and ripped, either. It was comfortable, meant for the flight, but it turned him on nonetheless.

Standing back from her, he leaned against the dresser and drank her in. The hesitation she might have felt as a teen was gone, and she leaned slightly against the edge of the bed, letting him look.

Her new body scared her, and she wondered if they would feel the same when they moved together. The last time they'd made love was when he found the lump; would it be awkward? Well, she decided, you couldn't not have sex with your spouse for a few years without it being awkward.

Reaching out to him, she found the edge of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Instead of going straight for the kill on his cargo shorts, she lingered, her hands remembering the landscape of his chest. As she touched his skin all over, his breathing picked up, and he closed his eyes. He was so lost in her touch, so electrified by the heat and pure emotion shifting between them. Unable to wait, he moved his lips forward to hers, each set moving together slowly. Bella's hands found the waistband of his shorts and deftly removed them.

When he was nude in front of her, it was her turn to stare. She couldn't keep the wide grin from her face as she looked at him, nervous and giddy anticipation of really indulging in her husband again bubbling to the surface. Although she wanted everything, wanted to do everything with him that night, enjoy every sensation she knew he was capable of providing, _multiple times_, she needed him joined with her the most.

As if he was reading her mind, he pressed her back, his body right against hers, until the backs of her knees touched the plush mattress. Fingertips traced her ribs, then around to the bra clasp, which was quickly undone. Bella, her mood still playful, wiggled a bit and laughed as the mostly-lace garment slipped off her body and down her arms to the ground. Edward pulled her panties down tortuously slowly, then looked up at her from bended knee.

"Will you marry me?" he asked.

It was the last thing she expected him to say. Her eyes flooded.

"I... you... we're already married, Edward."

Her verbal fumbling was adorable, he thought as he grasped her left hand between both of his.

"Yes, but right now, this week, will you marry me again?"

The tears spilled down her face and onto her bare skin as she nodded. "Yes, of course. Anything."

Edward placed kisses on her feet, her ankles, calves, thighs, one longer, slower kiss at the apex of her thighs, and then up to her belly. He seemed to pause, to hesitate, at her breasts. Here, he paid special attention, which surprised Bella. Licking slowly, he made his way from the bottom, full part of her breast, over to the nipple. On the reconstructed side, he seemed to go even slower, even more reverent. The last kiss he placed on her body was just above her heart.

"Scoot back," he said quietly, hands helping to guide and lay her down.

The moment their bodies rested together, she could feel just how much he wanted her, and she wanted him to know it was the same for her.

"Edward, it's been too long. I've waited too long. Please, love," she begged. As she spoke, her hips rolled up into his gently, not demanding, but pleading.

Her hand sought him out and guided him to her, both of them stealing one final moment to kiss and lick and touch each other before pushing their bodies into the frenzied dance they'd enjoyed together so many times.

Finally, they could take no more, and he pressed in to her, then waited. His forehead touched hers, and he let himself go. Let the tears fall. Let their reconnection quietly and invisibly stitch itself back together as they sighed and shared the air between them.

The tears of relief quickly disappeared and gave way to sheer pleasure, for both of them. Edward had forgotten how good it felt to be so lost inside of her, maybe even had blocked it from his mind for his own sanity. She'd done similar, convincing herself that she could live without this aspect of her life, only to be startlingly reminded of it as he began to move.

Bliss and perfection was the only way to describe their coming together. Edward moved with precision and certainty, thrusting deeper than she thought she'd ever felt him before. It was better than the first time, better than the last time, better than any time she could recall, because it was them, alive and together again.

The way it was meant to be.

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**Thank you for joining me on this journey with these characters. I've enjoyed writing this immensely.**


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